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I found these likely lads lurking in a forgotten corner of my childhood home. I think I was about 10 when I made them which goes to show there were some benefits from growing up in the land of just 2 tv channels and no internet. I can’t remember but I do wonder why I didn’t give No.7 his 7 and in fact, why do they have numbers at all? What a strange child I was.

As for yer man on the end – well – for the life of me I cannot recall the thinking behind him. He does have a certain je ne sais qois for a purple headed freak but also, to my shame – a touch of the golliwog about him (Oh, put the pitchfork down. It was 30 years ago.) Which goes to show, I think, that there were certain disadvantages to growing up in the land of 2 tv channels and no internet.

In a frenzy of unconscious patriotism, I stayed up late knitting little Irelands – as you do.
As with a lot of my work I made three and then stopped. I make up the pattern as I go and I think that by doing it three times I embed it in my brain. Yes, I know I could just write it down but I prefer the thrice tried method.

Apart from Italy of course, Ireland is an extremely knittable island and just cries out (to me) to hung from a keychain. Glad I’m not Indonesian in that respect.
Looking at the map, I have always had the strong impression of Ireland as a tubby little bear, sitting aloof, with his back to Europe, with Lough Neagh for an imploring eye westward, arms outstretched – whining “ Help America, help. Big Bad England’s kicking me up the arse.

So – now the only question left and it’s an age old one – How much is the Auld Sod worth? What price the multiple Mother Mother Eireanns? Oh, Roisin Dubh – do I even put a price on you or do I auction you off to the highest bidder? – well if NAMA can, I can.